


Fire

by EllieStormfound



Series: Jaskier has unexpected talents (and it is probably not what you are thinking) [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Competent Jaskier | Dandelion, Fire, Hurt Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Idiots in Love, Jaskier | Dandelion Takes Care of Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Not really a story, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, jaskier CAN build and light a nice fire, jaskier shows unexpected skill, just the two idiots enjoying the company of the other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24574615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieStormfound/pseuds/EllieStormfound
Summary: This is just a short fic without any story where Jaskier shows an unexpected practical talent
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Jaskier has unexpected talents (and it is probably not what you are thinking) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776235
Comments: 30
Kudos: 312





	Fire

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my native language, so if you finde any weird wording or spelling, you know why. And I have absolutely no idea about your weird punctuation, so expect commas where they don't belong.... :)

“Jaskier,” Geralt growled, “shut up and bandage my hands.” 

He was sitting in front of the bard, who held the witcher’s hands in his, examining them and chatting about some new song he was writing. Geralt’s palms and fingers were angrily red and swollen thanks to a Bruxa, who had managed to trap him under a burning roof beam. By the time he had managed to drag the heavy burning wood from his chest, his leather gloves had burned through. And it had not helped that he then had to grab the silver sword for the - thankfully - final blows that killed the Bruxa.

But for a witcher it was not an overly serious injury. With a healing elixir and a few hours of meditation his hands would be healed by the morning. But Jaskier had, with his stubborn persistence, bullied the witcher over the years into letting him clean his wounds and dress them in fresh bandages so they would heal over smoothly. At first Geralt had been irritated by this, but over the years he started to enjoy the attention and the gentleness bestowed upon him by the bard. Of course he would never tell him.

“Lucky for you,” Jaskier said, “I am capable of multitasking. So don’t worry, I am able to talk to you AND bandage your wounds.”  
Geralt felt Jaskier’s familiar fingers gently touching the edges of the burns, assessing the task in front of him. He hissed quietly through his teeth as he felt a stinging pain from the wet cloth with which Jaskier softly rubbed the grime and dirt from his sore palms.  
Quietly he heard the bard say, “I am sorry, dear.”

When Geralt’s hands were cleaned and bandaged it was getting dark. Jaskier had set up their camp for the night while Geralt had been fighting. Their bedrolls lay next to the dry wood Jaskier had stacked and surrounded with some stones. Normally it was Geralt’s job to ignite their campfire with igni, but tonight his hands were burned and sore and Jaskier had wound the white cloth so meticulously around his fingers that he could not move them. Which was good for the healing but made forming signs with them impossible. 

Geralt looked at the stack of wood with a frown, which made Jaskier smile. 

“You know, Geralt,” the bard said and continued with a dramatic tone to his voice, “that I am able to light a fire without...” Jaskier waved around with his hands in a poorly veiled attempt to make fun of the signs. He got up and walked over to their bags to rummage through them. “Even though one might argue that in everything I do is something … magical,” he said with a wink at the witcher, who rolled his eyes.

As he sat down again next to him, Geralt saw that Jaskier held a small box, that he placed carefully between them. Then he watched the bard with raised eyebrows as Jaskier drew his sharp knife, took one of the smaller logs and started to carve up wood chips. 

“I learned that it does not really matter how to stack the wood when you light the fire with igni, but sadly us mortals have to put a bit more effort into it,” Jaskier said.

“I can and will die too,” Geralt replied with a raspy voice. Jaskier looked at him seriously and said, “please postpone any dying for the next decades.” Jaskier’s small ways of saying and showing the witcher that he cared about him always hit him unexpectedly and always left him confused how to react. But Jaskier had turned away again and did not seem to expect a reply.

When Jaskier had produced a handful of wood chips he packed his knife away and took all the logs and sticks out of the circle of stones. He selected the smallest and thinnest pieces of wood and carefully leaned them against each other to form a little pyramid. Then the bard put the wood chips in the small pyramid. With a searching glance he looked up, examining their surroundings. Geralt was not sure what the bard was looking for when his face light up and he sprang to his feet, walking to a birch tree. 

“What are you...” Geralt began, only to be interrupted by the bard, “the thin white layers of the birchbark are of great help to start a fire when one does not have tinder at hand.” 

Geralt had to admit to himself that he was impressed. Usually Jaskier did not flaunt any useful talents, but flamboyantly showing off his artistic ones.

Jaskier returned and stuffed a bit of the paper thin white bark to the wood chips before he started to place more logs over the pyramid, going from smaller and thinner sticks to bigger logs. Geralt noticed that he placed the sticks and logs not too close together. When Jaskier had placed about two thirds of the wood to the pyramid he grabbed the box from earlier and took out matchsticks. 

With a grin he said to Geralt, “matchsticks are my form of fire magic.”

Geralt could not suppress a soft smile and was glad that Jaskier had returned his attention to the wood. With a flick of his wrist the bard rubbed the little stick to the underside of the box. The stick caught fire on the first try and Jaskier carefully inserted it between two logs into the pyramid shaped stack of wood igniting the birchbark and wood chips. 

When the first small flames died down Geralt noticed a small core of ambers. Jaskier leaned forward and started to gently blow on them. Sparks flew up and small flames started to erupt towards where Jaskier was blowing them, licking at the sticks and logs. With a satisfied hum Jaskier leaned back but was still closely examining the blooming fire. 

In the twilight of the evening Geralt saw the small flames reflected in the bard’s blue eyes, flickering and dancing. A soft warmth spread through his chest. 

Over the next few minutes Jaskier switched between placing bigger logs on the fire, carefully checking not to block the air supply for the flames and blowing in the ambers to encourage the fire to hop over to all the logs. 

When their fire was burning to his satisfaction, making cozy popping and cracking noises, he looked up to Geralt. Jaskier’s cheeks were rosy from the warmth of the fire and he was a bit out of breath from the blowing, beaming radiantly at the witcher. Something in the witcher’s chest constricted painfully and he had the strange desire to brush his hand through the soft brown curls of the bard. 

“What?” Jaskier asked when he saw Geralt’s stare.

Geralt cleared his throat and said, “I must admit that I did not expect you to have such a practical skill.”

Jaskier huffed indignantly, “I am sure you meant to say ‘Thank you Jaskier, my friend, for not only bandaging my hands and providing my helpless ass with a nice fire but also for enduring my grumpy moods’”.

**Author's Note:**

> I am drawing from my years of being a scout when I was young. I was never as good at building, starting and maintaining a fire as I make Jaskier to be, but at least I have a bit experience... I had the idea when I wrote another fic staring Roach and the problem is that I have no fucking idea about horses and it made me think about what I could write that I have more experience in that would fit in the witcher world and timeline .... so camp fire it is. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> Find me on tumblr [EllieStormfound](https://elliestormfound.tumblr.com/)


End file.
